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lady-spacy · 25 days

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Pt. 3 Children of the kindly west (Kíli x Reader) — A tale of two dwarven hearts

This is a translation, more of a re-write, of a fanfiction I wrote first in German during 2013 - 2015 when the Hobbit movies premiered and I was just as obsessed and enamored by that adorable prince like everyone else. And reading the Silmarillion for the first time this year in February brought me back to middle-earth and reminded me of my love of dwarves. And this brings me here today. Enjoy! Cross-posted on AO3 here. P.S. Feel free to tell me if any warnings or tags are missing. And if you want to be tagged in future parts! <3

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 *coming soon*

Warnings: Mutual Thirsting/ Pining, mentions of a naked female body under a nightgown, mentions of breasts, some sexual and romantic tension

New-found Friends

„Do you like Kíli?“, Syniver asked with an innocent face.

„I really like him!“, she continued. „He is so tall and funny!“

She laughed and rolled over a small sofa in the corner of the kitchen, standing up and giving an impression of Kíli when he huffed and rested his hands on his hips, when he was about to loose a game.

You smiled. You smiled about how wonderful your sister was and how much fun she was having.

But her question continued to linger in your mind, did you like Kíli?

Was one afternoon, one evening enough to say whether you liked your old acquaintance more than you had before?

It probably was enough. You had not laughed as much in a long time, spending time with him felt natural and easy and you wanted more.

More of him! You wanted to get to know the man he had become. The man whose eyes sparkled from within!

You met him again on the next day, when he came by to bring some knitted work that his mother had done for Syniver and your mother invited him to stay for an early tea.

And a few days after that you took the long route to the market, that led by the house of his family, hoping that you would see him. And you were lucky, he was outside shoveling snow from the pathway — you smiled at him and waved. He waved back with an excited grin and something deep inside you felt full and warm.

You stopped to talk with him and he offered to accompany you again.

„But don’t you need to finish shoveling here?“, you had asked and he had just shrugged.

„I’ll finish it later, or Fíli will do it. Or it snows more and then I have to do it again anyways.“

„Alright“, you had agreed and had taken his arm that he had offered you once again

„And besides“, he had added with the sparkle in his eyes that you had started to always look out for, „ I prefer your company over the shovel’s anytime!“

„I am glad to hear that I am more pleasant to be around than a shovel“, you had laughed but it had died in your throat as you had caught Kíli’s eyes on you and somehow you had gotten tangled up in them.

You had eventually torn your eyes away from his, missing the quick flash of confusion, as you had looked away and got out your shopping list from your pocket, ignoring the way your hands had trembled.

You were woken up by the repeated and unrelenting calling of your name a few days after your last day with Kíli.

You groaned, turned to the side and hoped that Syniver would be quiet soon, if she would not get an answer from you and your closed door.

Speaking of your closed door, you heard muffled voices on the hallway and a half-awake part of your brain chose to listen to them as you caught your name being said.

„Oh yes, she’s here. She’s maybe still sleeping. You can just go in!“, Syniver cheerfully explained and a horrified male voice answered.

„I can not go in there. I will not disturb her privacy!“

Kíli!

„Oh, why?“, asked Syniver’s voice confused and you thought the same.

‚Yes, why would he not come in’, the half-asleep part of your brain wondered, having him here with you would be heavenly, you could breathe in his musky scent of leather, pine trees, smoke and horse and it would surround you completely…

He would surround you completely.

Kíli’s voice sighed and then he answered.

„Just family can go to someone when they are sleeping, I am just a…“ He paused and you felt your heart hammering in your chest, what would he say now? What was he?

„I am merely a friend!“, he said slowly.

Just a friend.

What did you expect would he say?

Sighing, you threw your head back deeper into your pillows and opened your eyes.

Taking in the light of the day that filled your chamber you decided that you were awake now and got out of your bed. You turned to look for your dress that you had laid over a chair the night before.

And then your door opened. Syniver stood there and looked pleased with herself.

„See, she’s not sleeping anymore!“, she exclaimed loudly over her shoulder to Kíli, who stood behind her with a mortified look on his face.

The two of you stared at each other, mouth open and you felt the heat rise in your cheeks and saw how his cheeks reddened as well.

The heavy up and down of your chest brought you back to reality and you stumbled over your feet in an attempt to find something, anything to cover yourself with. You grabbed your dress from the chair and pressed it to your front.

Kíli had moved in the same time as you had come back to your senses, stuttering apologies over and over again and fled from the hallway, you heard his panicked steps on the stairs.

„Can you not knock?“, you asked Syniver over your heavy beating heart with more anger than she deserved.

„This was embarrassing!“, you sank back down onto your bed, resting your head against the bed post, suddenly exhausted, the dress still pressed to your body, that felt uncomfortably hot and aware of the fabric of your nightgown on your skin. You wore a simple white nightgown made from a light, fine fabric that could be quite translucent — oh Mahal, what had he seen?

He was never supposed to see you like this, hair open and unkempt, barely a braid in it and nearly naked. He was a prince after all! And he had offered you his company and his friendship, he had offered you his brilliant grin and sparkling eyes.

You wanted nothing but to be worthy of his kindness and friendship, you had to be your best self!

And this was barely your best self, just right out of bed! You groaned and looked at Syniver with pained eyes, who stood confused by your side and wondered why you and Kíli were acting so strange.

While you got dressed and tried to explain to Syniver why knocking is of importance and why you cherished your privacy, was Kíli running out of your house and straight to his. He spoke with nobody on his way, thankfully was no one home when he arrived, and gathered his bow and arrow together with his hunting gear and fled to the woods.

He went by foot, needing to run, needing to move, needing to get the image of you out of his head.

You bathed in sunlight, hair flowing freely over your shoulders, just a few little braids with golden beads on the ends sprinkled through it, cheeks and lips rosy and fresh from sleep —

You standing against the golden sunlight that made the fabric of your nightgown so sheer, that he could see the voluptuous contours of your breasts and the lush outlines of your waist, full belly and hips…

You staring at him with big surprised eyes, lips slightly parted, chest heaving, breasts moving with each breath under your nightgown.

And he had stared, he could not take his eyes away from you and your body, he should have looked away! He should have stopped Syniver when she opened the door!

He did not deserve to see you like this, fresh after the night, glowing like one of the goddesses of old that he had heard so many stories about.

Who was he anyways? Just the second-born prince of a kingdom he did not even knew, he spat out this title in disgust, even in thoughts.

And he was so oddly lean, too lean for a respectable dwarven warrior, his hair was too straight and he seemed to be unable to grow a beard.

People had mocked him, they have cackled behind their hands pressed over their mouths for all of his life.

And amidst everything was you, beautiful, cheerful and well-spoken you.

You, whose eyes and face were kind to him, he felt seen in your gaze. In the best way possible.

When you smiled at him, laughing at one of your own jokes or his, when you two chatted away was he finally feeling like he could just be.

He felt like he was enough, let the people talk, when he had your smile and your warmth next to him.

You had knocked him off his feet, literally.

Which was surprising and unexpected. He had barely given you a second thought in the past, the daughter of his mother’s best friend. Tiny and always behind him, his brother and other children. You had played together, spending more time arguing about a game than actually playing it.

But you had found ways to arrange yourself and your games and still, he had never looked twice. You were just there. Until now.

When your worlds had collided and were joined again by impact.

Oh Mahal, he slowed down his running and sighed, what have you done to me?

Later on the same day were you working in the kitchen, making a fresh batch of bread, and hitting the dough more than kneading it.

You were still embarrassed about what had happened in the morning, still unsure on how to continue and you did not even knew why he had come to you in the first place.

A knock on the door made you pause in beating up the dough and you wiped your hands clean from flour on your apron while yelling “coming” towards the door.

You went to open the door and it was Kíli’s remorseful face greeting you with a shaky grin.

“Hello”, he whispered with a hoarse voice.

His eyes barely sparkled anymore, you noticed with a growing concern.

Was he not feeling well?

“Can I come in? I have brought you, I mean not you, you, I mean you and your family of course, some rabbits that I have freshly hunted today…”

And indeed, he had five already skinned rabbits hanging over his shoulder.

You smiled carefully and nodded.

“Of course! You are always welcome here!”

He breathed out in relief and his steps got his usual bounce back as he strode confidently into the kitchen.

And when he turned to you were his eyes sparkling again! You grinned, happy at the sight.

He gave you the rabbits and told you that he had already gutted them.

“They are ready for cooking or smoking!”

“Excellent!”, you answered.

“Mother will decide later on what will happen to them, my responsibility today is only the bread”, you nodded towards your kitchen’s worktop where still the bread dough rested. He followed your look.

He kept his eyes on the dough and said quietly: “Can I talk to you? I have to apologise for my behavior today…”

He still was not looking at you.

“Of course…”, you nodded and got up to put away the rabbits into the cold storage room under your kitchen.

“Will you help me with these?”, you nodded towards the rabbits while climbing down the ladder into the storage room.

Kíli got up as well, without saying a word and handed you two rabbits at a time.

After he had given you the first pair he started speaking.

“I am awfully sorry for my disturbance in your privacy earlier! I should have never looked into your private chambers, Syniver had told me that you were still sleeping… I should have left right there.

It will never happen again!”, he said, voice coated with remorse and pain, while handing you the next two rabbits and you stored them carefully away.

“I have already forgiven you”, you answered after a quick minute, where you had gathered your thoughts.

“It was a stupid accident! And also quite hilarious, if you think about it. As if any visitor sees the people in a house in their night wear…”, you laughed and Kíli gave you the last rabbit and smiled slightly in an attempt to answer your laughter.

“Why did you come by anyways?”, you asked, as you climbed the ladder up again.

“Oh, I was just wanting to ask – CAREFUL!”, he suddenly yelled, as your foot slipped from

the last step of the ladder as you had stepped accidentally onto the hem of your dress.

He grabbed you by the arm and you cling onto him instinctively and he helped you carefully back onto the safe ground of the kitchen floor.

Your eyes got tangled into each other once again as he still held you close to him.

*You were already standing safely back on the ground but neither of you moved, the two of you were not even blinking!

You breathed out and smiled at him, breaking the spell. He instantly released your arm and made a quick step back from you.

“Thank you – for saving me. This could have gone very differently without you…”, you shuddered as you looked down the ladder onto the dark, solid ground.

“We’re square now”, he answered with his usual grin. Everything was fine again.

“You ran into, well over, me and most certainly saved me from eventually doing something stupid that day on the market in regards to Fíli’s lover and now I saved you. We’re even!”

“I am glad”, you said.

“You were just about to tell why you came by this morning…”, you reminded him.

“Oh yes, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to spend the day with me, hunting, riding in the forest…”, he looked at you with hopeful eyes and your heart melted instantly.

“Can we still do that? This sounds lovely!”

“If you want to, there’s still enough daylight left for a short trip. I know a lovely little pond, it is frozen now of course, but it is beautiful with frozen waterfalls…”, Kíli’s eyes sparkled and sparkled and your heart was full and happy. You wanted to ride through the forest by his side, you wanted to see the beautiful little pond, you wanted to see the world through his eyes!

You wanted to get to know his world!

And so you did.

Today’s ride through the forrest would be the first of many more to come.

He showed you hidden places, full of beauty and wonder. He showed you, where the rare white deer grazed during the winter months and you spent hours watching them from deep within the undergrowth of big, old trees.

„Some say“, he told you one day, „that these trees are older than the elves in middle-earth…“

You cocked your head to the side and looked at the gigantic trees around you, covered in all kinds of evergreens, moss and dead looking climbing plants — you knew that they would become lush and green soon enough when spring would arrive.

The trees were old, sturdy and had a rough bark that protected them from the seasons and weathers and apparently time.

„What they must have seen in all of these ages…“, you wondered and caught Kíli looking at you from the side.

You smiled at him, it was an instinct, you could not not smile when you saw or just thought of him, and his eyes sparkled, when he returned your smile.

„The most extraordinary wonders“, he answered solemnly and kept looking at you and his smile lit a fire of gold and brown in his eyes, like a fragrant late summer day over freshly dug soil.

You wanted to keep the happiness that radiated off of him in your life and your heart forever, it made you feel whole.

Of course, you were your own person but with him by your side, it felt like your life had doubled.

Everything had intensified over the span of the days and weeks since Kíli had come back into your life.

He gave you so much. So much laughter, so much joy, he filled your heart and soul with warmth and let your insides tingle pleasantly.

His smile, his slightly curved pink lips, his sparkling eyes, his strong hands, his skillful fingers that flitted over the neck of his fiddle when he played his happy melodies…

He was all of this and more and you had started to wonder how you were ever able to live without the light he brought.

It was one of the evenings that you had spent with him in front of the fireplace in the welcoming living room of his family’s house — he and Fíli had played their fiddles and you had danced to their tunes, you had hummed along, happy songs about the most beloved treasures, of rare gems and of girls and boys flirting and dancing at their town’s festivals.

You had pressed your favorite book, that you had read to the brothers before, to your chest, taking it as your dance partner and swirled around the room, laughing and swinging…

But your eyes never left Kíli. You kept your eyes on him for the whole time.

You admired how he used his whole body to play his fiddle, how he moved along to the music, how his arms moved when he played, how he kept his full body tension —

pressing his chin gently to his fiddle to keep it stable on his shoulder and how his bow in his right hand danced confidently over the strings all while the fingers of his left hand bounced masterfully over the fiddle’s neck…

He was otherworldly beautiful, like a mythical creature from another realm, his dark hair in contrast to his sky blue tunic, his cheeks reddened from playing and laughing in the warmth of the fire in the room and always his eyes.

Sparkling. Fixed on you. Smiling slightly, as much as his play allowed.

And you danced, danced with your happiness and joy. Danced with a full heart and a soul that felt complete.

In the night that followed you saw yourself dancing in your dreams, your skirts twirled around you and you laughed. The You that you observed looked directly at you and you saw her smile so brightly, so beautifully.

Your face rosy and a few strands of hair were sticking to the sides of your face, where sweat glittered in the light of the fire.

You were beautiful. Any doubt that you ever had about yourself faded as you observed your dream self.

She was glowing. She was everything.

And you knew, even after waking, that she was not a creation of your mind, she was you and you were her.

Kíli saw himself this night in his dreams as well.

He saw himself like you had seen him. Beautiful, ethereal and worthy of your admiration.

He did not saw the little boy in the shadow of his brother and uncle, who was always trying to prove himself to them and the world. He saw a man, strong, capable and enough, even handsome, just like he was. And for the blessed moments that his dream lasted, he accepted your vision fully.

He just did not know that it was your eyes he had seen himself through.

Just like you did not know that you had seen yourself through his eyes.

Efís had stopped talking and the children all looked up to her with big eyes, questions flashing up behind their eyes.

“Why were they dreaming of themselves? Don’t you usually dream of other people and not about yourself?”, one of the older girls asked.

“Oh well”, Efís smiled slightly, her eyes fixing at a far point over the fire place, while she thought of her answer.

“There are stories, stories of old, that tell of bound, fated souls, souls tied together by Mahal himself, when He created them.

Kíli and who was merely just his childhood acquaintance once were always destined to be more than friends or lovers. I believe firmly that their souls were promised to each other by Mahal, just like in the old stories . I believe they were the One for each other.

And the old stories also say that people, whose souls were were bound together in the moment of their creation, were able to see through the eyes of the beloved. Especially in dreams.

They caught a glimpse of their own soul and it inspired them, healed them, nourished them and made the love in their hearts burn even brighter than before. If it ever was possible.

But the pair in our story, though fated, was not yet aware that it was love that was growing quickly and rapidly in their hearts.

But it would change very soon.

On a fateful day in the deep winter, when Fíli celebrated his 81st birthday Kíli and his One were both met with a burning desire for each other— and burning jealousy. But before I tell you about their hearts matters, do you want more cookies?”

The children screamed in joy and nodded ferociously.

“Very well then, dears, let me get the next platter!”

Efís laughed contently on her way to the kitchen, she was happy that the children, who came to visit her, shared her love for wonderful baked goods and the stories of old. This way was she making sure that the heritage of their people, stories, songs, everything that made their culture so rich, would be passed on for generations to come.

She continued speaking, after she was seated again and the children happily produced cookie crumbs on her carpet and the room was once again filled with eating children, their breathing, their sniffling and the crackling of the fire.

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deepinthelight · 1 year

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Kili in The Battle of the Five Armies

#kili #aidan turner #the hobbit the battle of the five armies

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spoopyoopy · 2 years

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#this template has me on a chokehold #the fact that thranduil blends so well with Jesus…#the hobbit #lotr memes #kili #kiliel #tauriel #bilbo baggins #bagginshield #thorin oakenshield #battle of the five armies #thorin #aidan turner #hobbit crack #desolation of smaug

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ksenka-zarazka · 2 years

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Donetsk banana republic supported by Russia “DNR” sentenced three foreigners that serve in Ukrainian army to death.

Aidan Aslin, from Newark, is an enlisted member of the Ukrainian army, having moved there in 2018.

Shaun Pinner, from Watford, also said he had listed in the Ukrainian marines, a status which should give them both protection under the Geneva Convention.

Saadoune Brahim, from Morocco, came to Ukraine to study at a university but dropped out in order to enlist in Ukrainian army voluntarily.

Rumours are “DNR” wants Britain to officially come there to save its citizens, thus legitimizing the banana republic.

The world is getting tired of this war! And this is exactly what Putin wants! Please do not close your eyes, this is the battle of the entire civilised world against evil!

#aidan aslin #shaun pinner #saadoune brahim #ukrainian army #invasion of ukraine #ukraine resistance #russia ukraine war #ukraine war #war in ukraine #russian war crimes #war #war crimes #save aslin #save pinner #save brahim #genocide of ukrainians #prisoners of war

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luna-writes-stuff · 1 year

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CHAPTER XXXIII

A Kili X OC fic

Previous chapter // Next chapter

Tw: Violence, decapitation, general against orc violence, flashback, Bilbo being an anxious mess, Kili is sort of sad, Fili rights. Short chapter, but only because we have like two/three left.

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The filler before the storm

“The key to taking down your opponent is your own balance.”

The break the company had gotten at Beorn had been welcomed, to say the least. Raewyn had taken it upon herself to teach Bilbo the basics of fighting. At least so he’d survive the rest of this journey. She figured that they’d come across much more than orcs in the meantime.

“How do you maintain balance when walking?” The hobbit wondered aloud, pointing towards his own feet, before looking up at Raewyn.

In return, the Asha smiled at him, offering him one of the two sticks she found in Beorn’s garden. She figured they'd minimise the damage, would any be dealt.

“Tackle me.”

Looking up at her with wide eyes, the hobbit shook his head. “You’re still recovering.”

“Believe me. I’ll be fine.”

Though unnerved by her words, Bilbo grabbed the stick. He observed his friend for a short moment, trying to assess the perfect place to strike. As if she heard his thoughts, Raewyn tapped the side of her knee with her stick, now parting her legs for a stronger stance.

Inhaling deeply, the hobbit nodded, grabbing the stick with both hands before advancing. His weapon hit the shown spot, but due to his carefulness, it felt like a mere nudge to Raewyn’s legs.

She raised her eyebrows at him, giving him an expectant look.

“I can’t just hit your knee.” He defended, referring to her still healing body. Rolling her eyes at him, the ranger struck her smaller companion on his shoulder, causing him to grow distracted. Turning his head to look at the hit shoulder, Raewyn nudged her foot between his, before kicking to the left gently, making the hobbit stumble before falling to the floor. Aiming her makeshift weapon at him, she smiled, shrugging as he shot her an incredulous look.

“Wounded enemies will still strike, Bilbo.”

Huffing in defeat, said hobbit clambered back up, hitting his thighs as to shake off the sand.

“These are your gravitational points.” Raewyn continued, pointing to her hips, then gesturing to her friend’s. “They should be aligned with your feet. Part them too far, or too near, and you’ll easily fall.”

Bilbo copied her movements as she parted her legs slightly in demonstration. Wielding the stick, she silently urged the hobbit to wield his as well.

“Now, the key is not to hack your opponent aimlessly; try to get them off their balance.”

“And how do you do that?” Bilbo asked, swinging his weapon slowly, trying to mimic everything his friend was doing.

“Well, orcs and goblins will most commonly be your enemies. They lack basic fighting skills. All they know is punch and slash. They’ll be easy to knock down.”

A confused furrow of his eyebrows was all Raewyn got in response. Smiling at the hobbit again, she went on with her explanation: “Get your opponent moving, strike when one foot has left the floor. Sheer panic will force them to put that foot down. It is up to you whether they regain their balance, or if you let them fall.”

“That’s when I strike?” The hobbit repeated for clarity, to which Raewyn nodded. “That’s the easiest way.”

Spinning the stick in her hand, the Asha gestured to her knees, then her feet. “Try it. With more urgency now. I won’t break.”

Inhaling deeply, the hobbit not held the stick in firm hands again, holding it out in front of him. Advancing slowly and hesitantly, he aimed towards his friend’s knee. Stepping back as his attempt, Raewyn showed him a playful smile.

Setting his face in more determination, Bilbo advanced again, quicker this time. Letting the hobbit have his chance, Raewyn shielded her other side, effectively allowing the hobbit to successfully tap his target. With a dramatically wounded expression, she fell to the ground, clutching her knee.

Dropping his weapon in shock, Bilbo rushed to his friend kneeling down beside her. Calling her name, he laid his hand on her shoulder, drawing her attention to him. When she lifted her head, Bilbo could see the huge smile on her face, followed by heartfelt laughter.

“You heathen!” Bilbo sighed, returning his hand before shaking his head.

“I got you good.” She spoke between laughter, rolling over in joy.

“You’re hilarious.” He stated monotonously, standing up from the ground.

Whilst Raewyn laughed off her joke, the hobbit wandered back to his gatherings, staring at his sword in particular. The blade Gandalf had gifted him. As if she could sense the sudden change in the air, Raewyn stopped laughing, raising herself from the floor as well.

“Gandalf said he hoped I wouldn’t have to use it.” Bilbo voiced as he pointed to the weapon.

“As do I,” Raewyn spoke, immediately catching onto his meaning. “But I am a lot more realistic than Gandalf. I know you will have to face opponents before this quest is over. I’d rather have you tactically prepared, than give you words of encouragement and bravery.”

Scoffing lightly in agreement, Bilbo sat down of a log next to the bags.

“What was it like? Travelling with Gandalf when you were younger?”

A tiny grin formed on Raewyn’s face at the interest. She knew her friend to be naturally curious, but where others would usually ask about her blood-related family, it was Bilbo who had been the first one to show genuine interest in Raewyn’s history with Gandalf.

“You learn manners quickly,” She answered, after thinking about it for a while. “You wouldn’t say, but Ashas can be unfriendly to those outside their kin. You wouldn’t be able to separate us from dwarves if it was not for our language. And even that sounds Khuzdul.”

A questioning glance was thrown her way, causing her to snicker in humour, before clarifying her words. “Dwarvish.”

Mouth opened, Bilbo nodded, not saying anything. Taking it as a silent invitation to keep on talking, Raewyn obeyed his silent order. “Gandalf is caring,” she concluded. “You naturally feel safer around him. Not because of his magic, or intimidating appearance.”

Stuck on the thought, she fell silent, staring off into the distance. “I really couldn’t tell you why.” She admitted, before continuing: “You can trust him. Always. There is not a safer place on Middle-Earth than beside him. He’ll watch over you. Even after you parted ways.”

‘There is no safer place on Middle-Earth than beside him’

Bilbo had no idea why that memory suddenly rushed through his head, but as he and Gandalf made way towards Laketown, he was glad to have been with the wizard. Every ounce of respect he held had been given to Raewyn in the mere months he had known her, but she was right to say he’d feel safer beside Gandalf.

The lakemen had stormed into the town, adamant to defend their home. Gandalf and Bilbo had ran with them, walking away from the large battlefield in front of Erebor. The hobbit was glad they had Raewyn. Of course, it wasn’t a guaranteed victory, especially not against an orc army that large, but he knew it was the right side to fight on.

It did leave him anxious to be surrounded by men all of the sudden. He was half their size and didn't have an ounce of the courage they had. There was panic in his eyes as he watched the orcs nearing the people, slaughtering them as they paved their way.

“What do we do?” He gasped, his voice on edge as another step took him closer to the wizard.

“We fight, master Baggins,” Gandalf spoke glumly. “We fight, or we lose.”

Across the plains, their friend stood her guard, taking down as many opponents as she could muster. The dwarven army kept shrinking by the second, and she could see the realisation setting in as she looked towards Dain.

The dwarf in question swallowed thickly, not letting his intimidating facade fall, but allowing it to water just slightly. His eyes were set in determination, whereas Raewyn’s were assessing the situation, building strategy as her mind went.

“We need to fall back!” She concluded, knowing they had lost too much of their army to continue pushing. “We’re losing too many soldiers!”

“Not now!” Dain protested, dismissing the Asha’s order as she cut down multiple orcs in one swing. “We almost got them!”

“No, we don’t! Look around, Dain!” She yelled to him, urging the dwarf to obey her order. He had seen his kin fall, but only now did he see the amount of dwarven bodies littered over the floor. “We’re no good for Thorin if we’re dead.”

Distracted, an orc advanced towards him quickly. Failing to call out of time, Raewyn grasped her axe with both hands, raising it above her head, before lunging it forward, the blade embedding in the creature’s torso harshly.

Turning around at the sound, Dain watched the creature fall to the floor, sending a nod to the woman who had thrown the axe. Swinging his weapon violently, he began to call out.

“Fall back! Fall back!”

Swiftly turning around while picking up a stray sword, Raewyn followed the dwarves, keeping a close eye on Dain. She had only been fighting for a couple of minutes, but she could sense her muscles tensing in her arm, tiring of the unexpected heavy armour and clumsy dwarven weapons.

“To the barricade!” Dain continued yelling. “Fall back!”

Ignoring the protests her body was giving her, she resumed her path, pushing the heavy feeling down. Dwarven endurance be damned, she never wore iron armour. And she had begun to understand why.

Commands in dark speech were thrown over the field, no doubt originating from Azog. Raewyn didn’t have to look around to realise he was rounding up his army for a final attack on the mountain. Groaning internally upon the realisation, she clutched the swordin her hand a little tighter

On top of the gates of Erebor, the dwarven company watched on as their kin began to return to the front of the mountain, trying to fortify there. In desolation, they stood there, looking down in remorse and sadness.

“This isn’t how it should be,” Fili complained, his voice muffled in a grumble. “We shouldn’t be sitting around while others fight for us.”

“Aye, I tried, lad.” Dwalin tried to console. “He won’t listen to me.”

“Balin?” Bofur tried to help. “You’re his oldest friend.”

But his response was a broken expression, shaking his head sadly. “Once the sickness has gotten to him, you can’t turn it back. I’m afraid we’re stuck here.”

Mumbles of disappointment ran through the group, but none dared make another remark, frightened of the king’s response, would he be listening. That was, all but one.

“No, we’re not. We can leave.”

All eyes fell upon the heir of the throne. He had stood up from his seat, looking down at the battle with pain in his eyes.

“And disobey the king?” Dori protested, his heart with the people on the floor, but his loyalty to Thorin still.

“I will not watch more lives be forsaken because one person told us we couldn’t fight!”

“Fili, lad,” Balin began, looking at him in sorror. “I admire your bravery, but we have to heed the king’s every order. You’ve seen what he does to those who fail to listen to him.”

The reference to Raewyn hadn’t been a pleasant reminder for any dwarves. But on the contrary of how they met her, they now thought back in pain and sympathy, for the longer their journey became, the more they had found themselves sympathizing with the young Asha. And now she had ultimately left, not only on bad terms with their king, but without a proper goodbye.

“Maybe she was right to refuse his words.” The blonde went on. “We know this isn’t right. But we do nothing!”

Where his brother was defending the honour and heart of their kin below, Kili had distanced himself from the group, staring down at the battle in horror and anxiety. His heart was beating at a dangerously quick pace, a sinking feeling entering his stomach. One he just couldn’t shake despite what he thought of.

“I’ve sent her to her death.” He mumbled, his hands shaking as he tried to run a hand over his face in frustration.

“She would’ve left anyway, lad,” Gloin attempted to comfort, familiar with the anxieties Kili was dealing with, and having sat closest to him to hear his self loathing. “If she was here now, she would not have sat idly.”

“What if she falls?” The younger dwarf shot back almost immediately, his lips trembling as spoke his worries aloud, now comprehending the entirely realistic possibility. “I’d be because of me.”

“You can’t think that.” His companion tried to soothe, but Kili shot him down.

“It’s true.”

Before Gloin could find it in himself to argue with the prince, a figure came from out of the mountain, drawing the attention of everyone on top of the gates.

There, Thorin walked, his crown, armour and robes forsaken, now dressed in plain leather, his sword drawn as he walked up to his company.

“I will not hide behind a wall of stone, while others fight our battles for us!” Fili proclaimed, walking up to his uncle. In return, Thorin walked towards him specifically.

“It is not in my blood, Thorin.”

Kili slowly rose as well, despite his anger and pain, still siding with his brother.

“Nor in mine.” He spoke as he stood beside Fili.

“No,” The older dwarf returned solemnly, his face now different than last they saw it. They were faced with their friend and kin now; no longer the mad king. And smiles begun to spread through the crowd as the company slowly began to realise this.

“It is not. We are sons of Durin.” His head now turned to the rest of the dwarves, speaking louder. “And Durin’s folk do not flee from a fight!”

Turning back to his nephews, Thorin laid his hand on Fili’s shoulder, a smile climbing onto his face. Swallowing thickly, Fili smiled back, Kili copying his movement with tears in his eyes.

Thorin leaned forward slightly, connecting his forehead with Fili’s, closing his eyes in affection. Unable to suppress the grin growing on his face, Fili gleefully returned the gesture, bathing in this silent moment of peace. As Thorin broke away, he looked to his other nephew, a look of sincerity in his eyes.

“I have no right to ask this of you,”, then, he turned his head to the rest of the company, speaking to all of them. “To any of you.”

Before he could even ask his questions, his friends had already stood up, weapons drawn. Not in a threatening manner laced with malice, but rather in one of determination and joy.

“But will you follow me one last time?”

—

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plainlo-inthemorning · 9 months

Text

Thranduil’s secret

Pairing: Tauriel x Kili Rating: 16+ Warnings: Mentions of violence, emotional hurt (but fear not …!) Words: 1.800 k.

Disclaimer: Canon what canon? This is for all the lovers out there.

“They want to bury him”.

Snowflakes fall silently around them.

Nature attempting to softly smooth over the carnage.

“Yes”.

Her king remains standing a few feet from where she reclines on the frozen rock, hunched over the still-warm body of a future that has been so cruelly taken from her.

From both of them.

She could rage against Thranduil.

Blame his indecisiveness, his selfishness, for the death of the dwarf.

Had the king only dispatched his soldiers to the mountain, as both she and the wizard so implored him to do, trying to appeal to the heart he has forgotten how to use, much could have been different.

But grief has pushed the fight out of her. In its place is only hopelessness and a pain the like of which Tauriel has never felt before.

Legolas, her old friend, has left.

She did not notice when, or if he said something to her before turning away. At this moment, she has no space for him, either.

“If this is love, I do not want it”, she cries, hearing how desperate she sounds, as she looks to her king. “Please, take it from me”.

Thranduil does not move, but the icy unkindness from earlier has melted from his features. If Tauriel’s own eyes had not been filled with tears, she might have recognized her sadness mirrored in the king’s.

“Why does it hurt so much?” She cannot seem to stop herself, clutching Kili’s gloved hand in hers.

“Because it was real”.

Thranduil’s unwavering answer takes her aback.

She looks down upon the dwarf’s bloodstained face again. A single tear streak has painted a faint silver trail from the corner of one eye and down the side of his face.

She saw it fall when he died. When the orc’s blade pierced his chest.

Flecks of snow cling to his thick brown lashes. He is so beautiful to her, she thinks sorrow will tear her apart if she has to let go of him.

They just found each other. He gave his life defending hers.

Slowly, she bends her head and does what she has ached to do for days, what she should have done on the lakeshore when he pressed the rune stone into her hand.

She touches her lips to his.

They are still soft.

His are the first she has ever kissed.

If this were a children’s bedtime story, she would breathe life into him with her longing.

Only when Thranduil kneels on the other side of the body, does Tauriel remember the king is still there.

She thinks he will ask her to stand and come away, and is ready to protest, to cling to Kili. She will stay right here until his kin returns to claim him.

But Thranduil does not speak.

Instead, he does something very unexpected, his face suddenly a mask of concentration.

His strong brows have come together in a frown: He raises a hand and lets it hover over Kili’s head.

“What … what are you doing?” Tauriel has to swallow her sobs for the words to come out right.

The moment drags out.

The king lowers his palm to place it lightly on Kili’s chest.

Tauriel, wholly confused, idly wonders through her grief if this is the first time in all his many, many millennia that king Thranduil has touched a dwarf with anything but the pointy end of a sword.

“He is a fighter”, the king says quietly. There is wonder is his voice. “And he fights, still. So stubborn …”.

“W-what?!”

Thranduil looks up, meets her shocked eyes.

“His heart has stopped, yes. But his soul is still here. It is holding on …”.

Now it is Tauriel’s heart that nearly stops.

“How do you…how can you-”.

Her king’s attention has returned to Kili.

He answers Tauriel without looking at her.

“I have certain … gifts”.

In typical Thranduil fashion, the king does not elaborate, and his matter-of-fact tone does not invite questioning.

Yet for once, Tauriel is too gripped with emotion to be deterred.

“Can you bring him back?”, she blurts out. “Please, my king, please? If there is any chance … I … I would do anything. Please!”.

Bringing someone back from the dead is reserved for the most nightmarish, ancient evil magic.

Until recently, Tauriel had only heard nonsensical tales of the practise whispered, and even in those, the someones that were brought back, were dangerous, mindless shadow apparitions of their former selves.

But if what her king is saying about Kili’s soul is true …

Thranduil appears to hesitate before speaking but when he does, Tauriel feels as if he is reading her mind. She has sometimes suspected that that is indeed a secret gift of his. Another one.

“The kind of magic required to awaken the dead is not only forbidden, it is destructive to the natural order of the world. However, if the soul has not yet left the body-”

He pauses. Decides.

“It can be done, if done quickly. No matter the strength of the warrior, the soul will be forced to leave this plane soon after death has occurred. I do not know how this one is still here”.

Love, thinks Tauriel. She does not know if it is actually true, or if it is her hope speaking. He is still here because of love.

Then the other elf gasps. Thranduil regards Kili’s face with disbelief.

“Of course …”, he whispers. His palm flattens on Kili’s pierced armour, fingers spread out. “Elvish blood runs in his line. Many years back …”

Tauriel stares at her love. Her mouth opens and closes.

His finely defined face, the shape of his cheekbones, so different from most of his kin.

Except for his brother’s, and the dwarf king’s …

Impossible. Yet suddenly it makes sense.

Did Kili know?

No, Tauriel does not think so.

As for Thorin …?

“Tauriel”, the elfking says. His voice is even but insistent. It commands her full attention. “If I succeed in bringing him back to you, you must never speak to anyone of what happened here. Not a word, do you understand? Not to his kin. Not to him. Certainly not to the wizard … And not to Legolas”.

Something flutters beneath the deep timbre of Thranduil’s voice. A bottomless despair struggling to surface, to be recognized.

And Tauriel remembers what Legolas told her at Mount Gundabad. About his mother’s death there.

She draws in a breath as she looks into Thranduil’s blue, blue eyes, but the king holds up a hand, reading her like a book.

“No”, he says simply but firmly, and it is a no that silences her. A warning.

No.

The king then touches Kili’s forehead and closes his eyes.

Tauriel is squeezing the dwarf’s hand so hard her knuckles are turning as white as the ground.

Stillness.

And then the air seems to shimmer and fizz around them, thick with swirling magic.

The snowfall has stopped. Or it can no longer touch them.

Thranduil is muttering words under his breath that Tauriel cannot make out. He leans forward, long blond hair falling around his set face. The tips pool on Kili’s shoulders like a veil of fine silk engulfing him.

Time stands still, and Tauriel forgets to breathe.

She has no idea how many moments go by.

And then Kili’s chest rises, and his lips part.

And the dwarf gasps for air!

His whole body shivers as his eyes fly open to the sky, wild, wide, alive.

He is alive!

“Kili!” Tauriel cries out and takes his face in her hands.

Their eyes meet.

He blinks rapidly, like he has been pulled out of deep water. “Tauriel…” Shakily, he raises his hands to her face as if seeing her for the first time.

“Are you okay?”, he asks. His voice is hoarse but urgent. “The orc, is … is he-”.

“He’s dead. It’s over. We’re safe, we’re both safe”. Tears are streaming down her face. “I thought I’d lost you!”.

“I thought so too …” Kili looks at her with utter wonder and bafflement. Then he grimaces and reaches for the wound in his chest. “Ugh, this one hurts, though …”.

“He needs tending to and fast”. Thranduil stands. A tiny droplet of sweat glistens on his brow. Or perhaps it is a snowflake. Are they falling again?

“Tauriel, I would advise you to take him far away from here, and never look back, but …”

He speaks as if Kili was not there.

“What is-”. Kili tries to focus on the tall figure towering over him, but is too stunned, and in too much pain, to fully register what is being said.

Tauriel shakes her head at the elf king.

“He will want to stay with his kin. They have suffered enough loss”.

She thinks of Thorin. The dwarf king is dead.

Thranduil sighs.

“Yes, I anticipate he will want to do that …”

“Tauriel…”. The dwarf winces. She looks back at him. She will never lose him from her sight again.

She brushes locks of soft hair from his forehead.

Does not notice her elf lord leaving. She will never see him again.

“I had a dream that you kissed me”, Kili whispers, his eyes searching hers. “A kiss of love …”.

She smiles through her tears.

“It wasn’t a dream … my love”.

Despite his agony, a smile spreads on his face. A bright, wonderful, boyish smile amidst the hurt and loss. He will face them later.

“…Love”. He grins, actually grins, and tries to sit up, but Tauriel gently puts a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Do not move too much. You are badly wounded. We have to call on the others to come help, and patch you up…”

“Then come down here to me”.

He shakes off a glove. Weaves his fingers through her hair.

She dips her face to his.

He gasps when she recaptures his mouth.

His lips are still soft, but now they move, as well. Melting into hers.

He pulls her closer, his other, gloved hand finding the curve of her waist, and she has to remind herself not to crush his wounded chest.

She wants to drown in his arms.

When their mouths part, they stay nose to nose.

“Never leave”, Kili whispers. His warm breath tickles her skin.

All of him is warmth.

Home.

“I won’t. Never”.

High in the sky above them, eagles cry triumphantly.

She takes his hand. Presses the smooth, oval shape back into his palm.

“It worked, Kili”, she whispers against his lips, before kissing him again.

Deeply, hungrily.

For the third time out of a million more kisses to come over their many, many years together.

“It worked”.

Thank you for reading!

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